From a friend
They're having a nice night when, suddenly, they start to feel a bit of precipitation on their faces. The woman looks at her husband and says, "Look, dear, it's raining." Her husband tells her, "No, dear, it's snowing." Well, this argument goes back and forth for a few minutes until they see the local Communist officer, Comrade Rudolph, walk past. The husband says to his wife, "Look, dear, there's Comrade Rudolph, our local Communist officer. He always knows the truth. We''l ask him!" With that, the husband shouts, "Comrade Rudolph, is it raining or is it snowing?" Comrade Rudolph looks to the sky and says, "Raining," the continues on. The wife looks at her husband and says, "See? Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear."
Because they can't break the ice.
She said: "Well, I dreamt of a golden ring with lots of small diamonds." I asked her: "What do you think it means?" She smiled and said: "I don't know…" Flash forward to her birthday, with all our family members at the table, I gave her my present. I still don't know why she didn't like this book called 'Dreams and their Meanings'.
I'll shoot first.
A man walks out to the street and catches a taxi just as it’s going by. As he gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, “Impeccable timing. You’re just like Frank.”
Passenger: "Who?" Cabbie: "Frank Feldman. He's a guy who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time." Passenger: "There are always a few clouds over everybody." Cabbie: "Not Frank Feldman. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand-Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy." Passenger: "Sounds like he was really something special." Cabbie: "There's more. He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody's birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman could do everything right.” Passenger: "Wow, what a guy!" Cabbie: "He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams. Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good. He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too. He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman." Passenger: "How did you meet him?" Cabbie: "I never actually met Frank. He died and I married his wife."
Our dates can be summarized as follows: Dinner, dinner, dinner, dinner, dinner, dinner, dinner, dinner, BATMAN!
A bus full of children
My family and I walked into the lobby and as we were checking in, I whispered to the desk clerk, “I hope the porn is disabled.”
The guy looked at me in shock and sputtered, "It's just regular porn, you sick perv!"
It heard you were supposed to have three squared meals a day.
A couple lived near the ocean and used to walk the beach a lot. One summer they noticed a girl who was at the beach pretty much every day.
She wasn’t unusual, nor was the travel bag she carried, except for one thing. She would approach people who were sitting on the beach, glance around, then speak to them. Generally, the people would respond negatively and she would wander off, but occasionally someone would nod and there would be a quick exchange of money for something she carried in her bag. The couple assumed she was selling drugs and debated calling the cops, but since they didn’t know for sure they just continued to watch her. After a couple of weeks the wife asked, “Honey, have you ever noticed that she only goes up to people with boom boxes and other electronic devices?” He hadn’t and said so. Then she said, “Tomorrow I want you to get a towel and our big radio and go lie out on the beach. Then we can find out what she’s really doing.” Well, the plan went off without a hitch, and the wife was almost hopping up and down with anticipation when she saw the girl talk to her husband and then leave. The man walked up the beach and met his wife at the road. “Well, is she selling drugs?” she asked excitedly.” “No, she’s not.” he said, enjoying this probably more than he should have. “Well, what is it, then?” his wife fairly shrieked. The man grinned and said. “Her name is Sally and she’s selling batteries.” “Batteries?” cried the wife. “Yes,” he replied. “She sells C cells by the Seashore.”
I told her it's about time.
A Husband takes his wife to play her first game of golf. Of course, the wife promptly hacked her first shot right through the window of the biggest house adjacent to the course. The husband cringed, 'I warned you to be careful! Now we'll have to go up there, find the owner, apologize and see how much your lousy drive is going to cost us.' So the couple walked up to the house and knocked on the door. A warm voice said, 'Come on in.' When they opened the door they saw the damage that was done: glass was all over the place, and a broken antique bottle was lying on its side near the pieces of window glass. A man reclining on the couch asked, 'Are you the people that broke my window?' 'Uh…yeah! , sir. We're sure sorry about that,' the husband replied. 'Oh, no apology is necessary. Actually I want to thank you.. You see, I'm a genie, and I've been trapped in that bottle for a thousand years. Now that you've released me, I'm allowed to grant three wishes. I'll give you each one wish, but if you don't mind, I'll keep the last one for my self.' Wow, that's great!' the husband said. He pondered a moment and blurted out, 'I'd like a million dollars a year for the rest of my life.' 'No problem,' said the genie 'You've got it, it's the least I can do.. And I'll guarantee you a long, healthy life!' 'And now you, young lady, what do you want?' the genie asked. 'I'd like to own a gorgeous home in every country in the world complete with servants,' she said. 'Consider it done,' the genie said. 'And your homes will always be safe from fire, burglary and natural disasters!' 'And now,' the couple asked in unison, 'what's your wish, genie?' 'Well, since I've been trapped in that bottle, and haven't been with a woman in more than a thousand years, my wish is to have sex with your wife.' The husband looked at his wife and said, 'Gee, honey, you know we both now have a fortune, and all those houses. What do you think?' She mulled it over for a few moments and said, 'You know, you're right. Considering our good fortune, I guess I wouldn't mind, but what about you, honey?' You know I love you sweetheart,' said the husband. I'd do the same for you!' So the genie and the woman went upstairs where they spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying each other. The genie was insatiable. After about three hours of non-stop sex, the genie rolled over and looked directly into her eyes and asked, How old are you and your husband?' 'Why, we're both 35,' she responded breathlessly. 'No Kidding,' he said. 'Thirty-five years old and you both still believe in genies?'
Then does having sex for free make you a non-profit whoreganisation?
That should make the cremation a little more interesting…
… guess you could say he sleighed it
President Trump said “No politician in history — and I say this with great surety — has been treated worse or more unfairly.”
I guess the 6 Presidents who were shot no longer count *edit had 4 in post originally
They made a joke 21 years ago and people are still laughing at it.
Two Jewish guys are walking when one notices a sign on a Catholic church that says "Convert to Christianity, and we'll give you $100." The one says to the other, "should we do it??" The other says "NO!! Are you crazy?" The first guy replies "Hey, a hundred dollars is a hundred dollars… I'm gonna do it." So he walks in to the church, and little while later, he walks back out. The friend says "well, did you get the money?" He replies "Oh that's all you people think about, isn't it??"
When Beethoven passed away, he was buried in a churchyard. A couple days later, the town drunk was walking through the cemetery and heard some strange noise coming from the area where Beethoven was buried.
Terrified, the drunk ran and got the priest to come and listen to it. The priest bent close to the grave and heard some faint, unrecognizable music coming from the grave. Frightened, the priest ran and got the town magistrate. When the magistrate arrived, he bent his ear to the grave, listened for a moment, and said, "Ah, yes, that's Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, being played backwards." He listened a while longer, and said, "There's the Eighth Symphony, and it's backwards, too. Most puzzling." So the magistrate kept listening; "There's the Seventh… the Sixth… the Fifth…" Suddenly the realization of what was happening dawned on the magistrate; he stood up and announced to the crowd that had gathered in the cemetery, "My fellow citizens, there's nothing to worry about. It's just Beethoven decomposing."
The dominatrix never had a transgender client before, but she was a professional, over 5 years in the field, so she decided to agree to take the job. On the first day, she asked: "How should I refer to you, what pronoun do you go by?" Trans person: "Them". And as time goes by they keep talking and getting to know each other, they even tell jokes. After a couple sessions the trans person says "Hey can you tell me that joke you told yesterday again? It was hilarious!", the dom says sure and tells the joke again, but unsure what's funny about hearing the same joke twice. They keep meeting up, having a laugh, all the while engaging in dom sex. After a few weeks of this, the dominatrix is at a coffee shop with her friend when the trans client shows up and says hi. Her friend, surprised, asks "How do you know him?" "They're a client" the dom replied, "but they have a weird fetish" "What is it?" asked the friend, leaning in to hear some gossip "This sub loves when you tell them the same jokes every day!" Edit: consistency with pronouns
So I added fruit and lemonade to it and now she's sangria than ever
Add 24 carrots
Hot, cross bunnies.
Give it a badge and a gun
Even Mother Nature is participating in No Nut November.
20, 20, 20, and 20.
Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. PHD’s Letter From Birmingham Jail, his response to southern religious leaders accusing his protest movement of being too extremist and badly timed.
I highly suggest everyone reads the full text of the letter linked at the bottom of this post. The mod team was deliberating for days to think of what sections we should link to as an excerpt in this post, when we realized that we were just copying the entire letter at one point. Every word King writes here is powerful.You deplore the demonstrations taking place in Birmingham. But your statement, I am sorry to say, fails to express a similar concern for the conditions that brought about the demonstrations. I am sure that none of you would want to rest content with the superficial kind of social analysis that deals merely with effects and does not grapple with underlying causes. It is unfortunate that demonstrations are taking place in Birmingham, but it is even more unfortunate that the city’s white power structure left the Negro community with no alternative.[…]My friends, I must say to you that we have not made a single gain in civil rights without determined legal and nonviolent pressure. Lamentably, it is an historical fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals.We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was “well timed” in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word “Wait!” It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This “Wait” has almost always meant “Never.” We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.”We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward gaining political independence, but we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, “Wait.” But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six year old daughter why she can’t go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five year old son who is asking: “Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?”; when you take a cross county drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading “white” and “colored”; when your first name becomes “nigger,” your middle name becomes “boy” (however old you are) and your last name becomes “John,” and your wife and mother are never given the respected title “Mrs.”; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodiness”–then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court’s decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, at first glance it may seem rather paradoxical for us consciously to break laws. One may well ask: “How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?” The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that “an unjust law is no law at all.”[…]Sometimes a law is just on its face and unjust in its application. For instance, I have been arrested on a charge of parading without a permit. Now, there is nothing wrong in having an ordinance which requires a permit for a parade. But such an ordinance becomes unjust when it is used to maintain segregation and to deny citizens the First-Amendment privilege of peaceful assembly and protest.[…]I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice and that when they fail in this purpose they become the dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress. I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that the present tension in the South is a necessary phase of the transition from an obnoxious negative peace, in which the Negro passively accepted his unjust plight, to a substantive and positive peace, in which all men will respect the dignity and worth of human personality. Actually, we who engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive. We bring it out in the open, where it can be seen and dealt with. Like a boil that can never be cured so long as it is covered up but must be opened with all its ugliness to the natural medicines of air and light, injustice must be exposed, with all the tension its exposure creates, to the light of human conscience and the air of national opinion before it can be cured.[…]I had also hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth concerning time in relation to the struggle for freedom. I have just received a letter from a white brother in Texas. He writes: “All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but it is possible that you are in too great a religious hurry. It has taken Christianity almost two thousand years to accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth.” Such an attitude stems from a tragic misconception of time, from the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used either destructively or constructively. More and more I feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than have the people of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co workers with God, and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is the time to lift our national policy from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity.[…]And I am further convinced that if our white brothers dismiss as “rabble rousers” and “outside agitators” those of us who employ nonviolent direct action, and if they refuse to support our nonviolent efforts, millions of Negroes will, out of frustration and despair, seek solace and security in black nationalist ideologies–a development that would inevitably lead to a frightening racial nightmare.Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The yearning for freedom eventually manifests itself, and that is what has happened to the American Negro. Something within has reminded him of his birthright of freedom, and something without has reminded him that it can be gained. Consciously or unconsciously, he has been caught up by the Zeitgeist, and with his black brothers of Africa and his brown and yellow brothers of Asia, South America and the Caribbean, the United States Negro is moving with a sense of great urgency toward the promised land of racial justice. If one recognizes this vital urge that has engulfed the Negro community, one should readily understand why public demonstrations are taking place. The Negro has many pent up resentments and latent frustrations, and he must release them. So let him march; let him make prayer pilgrimages to the city hall; let him go on freedom rides -and try to understand why he must do so. If his repressed emotions are not released in nonviolent ways, they will seek expression through violence; this is not a threat but a fact of history. So I have not said to my people: “Get rid of your discontent.” Rather, I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent can be channeled into the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action. And now this approach is being termed extremist. But though I was initially disappointed at being categorized as an extremist, as I continued to think about the matter I gradually gained a measure of satisfaction from the label.https://ift.tt/2UjhbQc /r/PoliticalHumor mod team decided that this sticky would be a much more effective support action than shutting down the subreddit or other standard Reddit protests, because honestly, those protests don’t do much.)
In case they need to draw blood
The homeless man asks the rich man, "What'd ya get for your wife this year?" The rich man replies, "Diamond earrings and a Tesla." The homelesa man asks, "Why are you getting her two gifts?" The rich man says, "Well, if she doesn't like the earrings then she can drive to the store and exchange them." The homeless man nods. The rich man proceeds to ask him, "Well, what did you get your wife this year?" The homeless man thinks about it for a second and replies, "A pair of slippers and a dildo." The rich man asks, "Why those two things?" The homeless man proudly reponds, "Well, if she don't like the slippers, she can go fuck herself."